Chapter 137: Renovating the House

In July, Beijing was experiencing the peak heat of the year. Chen Liang, along with his childhood friends, was sweating profusely while engaged in the grueling labor of moving bricks.

From the moment they finished breakfast, Chen Liang had rounded up two porters and a flatbed cart driver to head to a brick kiln on the outskirts of the city to purchase grey bricks and roof tiles. One should not underestimate these porters and drivers just because they did manual labor; they were registered with the transport company, and if you crossed them, they wouldn't take your money even if you offered it.

At first, upon hearing they were headed to the suburban kiln, the men were reluctant, as the round trip would consume a significant amount of time. Adding in the labor of loading and unloading, the entire morning and early afternoon would be gone. Working two shifts' worth of effort for only one shift's pay—nobody was a fool, so naturally, they weren't interested.

But who was this guy Chen Liang? If he lacked anything, it certainly wasn't the cash he kept hidden in his supermarket inventory. He immediately activated his "money-sprinkling" technique.

"How about this, gentlemen? I'll pay you double for the trip. Does that work?"

Once Chen Liang laid that offer on the table, they had nothing more to say. They gave him a thumbs-up, praised him for being a stand-up guy, and willingly followed him along.

At the kiln, Chen Liang presented the introductory letter from the neighborhood committee and successfully purchased the grey bricks and black tiles. Although they had started early, the task dragged on. Under the scorching sun, they pushed and pulled the heavy load until they finally made it back home.

Drenched in sweat and radiating heat, they unloaded the materials and stacked them neatly against the wall. After paying the men and sending them on their way, Chen Liang made a show of pulling a large bottle of ice-cold "Happy Water" (cola) from a bucket in the well, which he had chilled in his supermarket. He called over his friends, Da Wu and Little Wangba, to have a drink.

"Brother Liang, what is this? It looks like soy sauce. Can you actually drink this stuff?" Little Wangba, blunt as always, asked immediately, and Da Wu nodded in agreement.

"You don't know anything. This is foreign soda I pulled strings to get from the Friendship Store. Most people can't even get their hands on this!"

Chen Liang rolled his eyes at them. Damn it, if he weren't worried about them suffering from heatstroke, he wouldn't have bothered taking it out.

"If you don't want it, forget it. On a day this hot, I'll just drink it all myself!"

He turned to his satchel, pulled out a large porcelain mug, and filled it to the brim. Sensing the chill, he downed it in one go—gulp, gulp, gulp!

The ice-cold cola hit his stomach, causing his insides to contract sharply. Fueled by the carbonation, Chen Liang let out a long, satisfying burp. Feeling the heat in his body dissipate, he decided that even the sun above didn't seem quite so vicious anymore. It was incredibly refreshing.

Seeing Chen Liang's look of pure enjoyment, Da Wu and Little Wangba dropped their guard. Da Wu snatched the porcelain mug from Chen Liang, while Little Wangba grabbed the bottle. The two split the remainder, copied Chen Liang’s method, tilted their heads back, and chugged it down, followed by a long, echoing burp just like his.

"Brother Liang, this foreign soda is really something. After drinking it, I don't even feel the sun is that hot anymore!" Da Wu smacked his lips, clearly still wanting more.

Do you know why the last remaining blacksmiths of later generations would keep a large bottle of cola in the freezer before starting their shift? It’s because cola helps the body dissipate heat rapidly. Those people who shout that "Happy Water" is unhealthy are likely sitting in air-conditioned offices sipping coffee; how could they possibly know such niche life hacks?

"Still craving it? Want more? Too bad, that was the only bottle. It's all gone!" Chen Liang put the bottle away and began directing them to work.

"Da Wu, go ask the neighbors if they have a ladder. If they do, borrow it."

"Little Wangba, don't just stand there. Your task is to use those bricks to raise the courtyard wall by twenty centimeters. No problem, right?"

"Brother Liang, are you looking down on me? This little bit of masonry work is nothing!" Little Wangba felt insulted and slapped his chest. "Brother Wu, Brother Liang, neither of you touch this. Watch me show you a real skill! My masonry craft was passed down from my father's family."

"Stop flapping your gums and get to work. If you don't finish by today, watch your skin!"

It was a sentiment that would make listeners weep. Not only was there no pay for the labor, but if they worked too slowly, they’d be skinned alive—the legendary skinflint Zhou Bapi of old probably wasn't even this bad.

"Alright, alright, Brother Liang, just watch!" With that, Little Wangba spat into his palms, rubbed them together for friction, grabbed a shovel, and began mixing the cement with gusto.

The cement was something Chen Liang had managed to finagle from the neighborhood committee by being thick-skinned. It was only because his reputation had spread that the committee director felt it wasn't worth falling out with him over a few bags of cement. Nowadays, cement was a controlled commodity; the average person couldn't buy it even with money.

Once Da Wu returned with the ladder, Chen Liang pulled out a large roll of waterproof canvas. Don't ask where he got it; just spare him some dignity. Damn it, even as a deputy section-level cadre, having to rely on his thick skin to scrounge up these materials made him feel like a disgrace compared to those other transmigrator protagonists who demolished houses and rebuilt them on a whim.

He and Da Wu climbed onto the roof. Before long, they had stripped away one side of the roof, discarding the broken tiles and keeping the intact ones. They carried up a pile of dry straw, spread it out carefully, and then laid the waterproof canvas over it. Once everything was secure, they began laying the tiles layer by layer.

There was a technique to laying tiles; they had to overlap, pressed firmly in place. Otherwise, a strong wind during a heavy rainstorm could blow them away, wasting all their effort. It was delicate work. Chen Liang handled the tiles while Da Wu passed them up from below. With their clear division of labor, their efficiency was astonishing, and soon, one side of the roof was renovated.

By then, it was nearly lunchtime. Chen Liang didn't want to work on an empty stomach, so he climbed down and called for Little Wangba, who was busy with the wall, to take a break.

Once they were all in the shade, Chen Liang tossed a pack of cigarettes onto the stack of bricks he was using as a table. Regardless of the dirt, he sat cross-legged, lit a cigarette, and the three of them began chatting aimlessly.

After a while, Ma Hua arrived, pedaling his bicycle, sweating profusely, carrying five lunchboxes in a mesh net with a large bag of steamed buns hanging from his handlebars.